Hee is ftill going in and out. ALBI. Deare wife, be not angry. ALBI. Heare me but one thing; let not your maydes fet cushions in the parlor windowes; nor in the dyning- 115 chamber windowes; nor vpon ftooles, in eyther of them, in any cafe; for 'tis tauerne-like; but lay them. one vpon another, in fome out-roome, or corner of the dyning-chamber. CHLO. Goe, goe, meddle with your bed-chamber 120 onely, or rather with your bed in your chamber, onely; or rather with your wife in your bed onely; or on my faith, I'le not be pleas'd with you onely. ALBI. Looke here, my deare wife, entertaine that gentleman kindly, I pre'thee;-—mum. CHLO. Goe, I need your instructions indeede; anger mee no more, I aduise you. Citi-fin, quoth'a! fhe's a wife gentlewoman yfaith, will marrie her felfe to the finne of the citie. 125 ALBI. But this time, and no more (by heauen) 130 wife: hang no pictures in the hall, nor in the dyningchamber, in any cafe, but in the gallerie onely, for 'tis not courtly elfe, o' my word, wife. CHLO. 'Sprecious, neuer haue done! CHLO. Doe I not beare a reasonable corrigible hand ouer him, CRISPINVS? CRIS. By this hand, ladie, you hold a moft sweet hand ouer him. ALBI. And then for the great gilt andyrons?— CHLO. Againe! would the andyrons were in your great guttes, for mee. ALBI. I doe vanish, wife. 135 140 ALBIUS still going out and in. N prithee G, N Exit. Q. 135 Exit. Q, G, N III S.D.] om. Q Re-enter ALBIUS. G 125 pr'y thee 1640, W pry'thee 1692, 1716 G, N 130 Alb. [re-entering.] G, N 136 not] om. N 140 Alb. [re-entering.] G, N 143 Exit. Q,G,N CHLO. How fhall I doe, Mafter CRISPINVS? here will bee all the braueft ladies in court presently, to fee 145 your coufin CYTHERIS: ô the [289] gods! how might I behaue my felfe now, as to entertayne them most courtly? CRIS. Mary, ladie, if you will entertaine them most courtly, you must doe thus: as foone as euer your 150 maide, or your man brings you word they are come; you must say (A poxe on 'hem, what doe they here.) And yet when they come, speake them as faire, and giue them the kindeft welcome in wordes, that can be. CHLO. Is that the fashion of courtiers, CRISPINVS? 155 CRIS. I affure you, it is, ladie, I haue obferu'd it. CHLO. For your poxe, fir, it is easily hit on; but, 'tis not so easily to speake faire after, me thinkes? ALBI. O wife, the coaches are come, on my word, a number of coaches, and courtiers. CHLO. A poxe on them: what doe they here? ALBI. come? How now wife! wouldst thou not haue 'hem 160 CHLO. Come? come, you are a foole, you: He knowes not the trick on't. Call CYTHERIS, I pray you: 165 and good master CRISPINVS, you can obferue, you say; let me intreat you for all the ladies behauiours, iewels, iefts, and attires, that you marking as well as I, we may put both our markes together, when they are gone, and conferre of them. CRIS. I warrant you, sweet ladie; let mee alone to obferue, till I turne my felfe to nothing but obferuation. Good morrow coufin CYTHERIS. CYTH. Welcome kind coufin. What? are they come? ALBI. I, your friend CORNELIVS GALLVS, OVID, TIBVLLVS, PROPERTIVS, with IVLIA the Emperors daugh152 ()] italics, Q 1640, 1692, 1716, W 161 italics, Q CYTHERIS. G, N 170 175 157 on] vpon Q 158 eafily] easie Q 159 Alb. [re-entering.] G, N 164 [To CRISPINUS.] He N easy G, N 172 Enter ter, and the ladie PLAVTIA, are lighted at the dore; and with them HERMOGENES TIGELLIVS, the excellent musician. CYTH. Come, let vs goe meet them, CHLOE. CRIS. At a haires breadth, ladie, I warrant you. 180 H GALLVS, OVID, TIBVLLVS, PROPERTIVS, CRISPINVS. Ealth to the louely CHLOE: you must pardon me, CYTH. I pardon, and praife you for it, fir; and I beseech your Excellence, receiue her beauties into your knowledge and fauour. IVLI. CYTHERIS, fhee hath fauour, and behauiour, that commands as much of me: and fweet CHLOE, know I doe exceedingly loue you, and [290] that I will approue in any grace my father the Emperour may fhew you. Is this your husband? ALBI. For fault of a better, if it please your highneffe. CHLO. Gods my life! how hee shames mee! CYTH. Not a whit, CHLOE, they all thinke you politike, and wittie; wife women choose not husbands for the eye, merit, or birth, but wealth, and foueraigntie. 5 ΙΟ 15 SCENA SECVNDA. Q Act... CRISPINVS.] As they are going out, enter CORNELIUS GALLUS, OVID, TIBULLUS, PROPERTIUS, HERMOGENES, JULIA, and PLAUTIA. G Enter GALLUS, PLAUTIA. N 13 Chloe. [Aside to OVID. Sir, we all come to gratulate, for the good report of you. TIBV. And would be glad to deferue your loue, fir. ALBI. My wife will anfwere you all, gentlemen; I'le come to you againe presently. PLAV. You haue chofen you a most faire companion here, CYTHERIS, and a very faire house. CYTH. To both which, you and all my friends, are very welcome, PLAVTIA. 20 25 CHLO. With all my heart, I affure your ladiship. IVLI. You must needes come to court, ladie, yfaith, and there bee fure your welcome shall be as great to vs. OVID. Shee will well deferue it, Madame. I fee, euen in her lookes, gentrie, and generall worthinesse. TIBV. I haue not feene a more certaine character of an excellent difpofition. ALBI. Wife. 30 CHLO. O, they doe fo commend me here, the courtiers! what's the matter now? 35 ALBI. For the banquet, fweet wife. CHLO. Yes; and I must needs come to court, and bee welcome, the Princeffe fayes. GALL. OVID, and TIBVLLVS, you may bee bold to welcome your Miftreffes here. OVID. We find it fo, fir. 40 TIBV. And thanke CORNELIVS GALLVS. OVID. Nay, my fweet SEXTVs, in faith thou art not fociable. 45 PROP. Infaith, I am not, PVBLIVS; nor I cannot. Sicke mindes, are like ficke men that burne with feuers, Who when they drinke, please but a present tast, TIBV. You yeeld too much vnto your grieues, and fate, Which neuer hurts, but when we say it hurts vs. PROP. O peace, TIBVLLVS; your philofophie 55 Sit downe, and chide at his malignant starres. 60 IVLI. Me thinkes I loue him, that he loues fo truely. CHLO. Haue you markt euery thing, CRISPINVS? 65 CHLO. What gentlemen are these? doe you know them? CRIS. I, they are poets, lady. CHLO. Poets? they did not talke of me fince I went, 70 did they? CRIS. O yes, and extold your perfections to the heauens. CHLO. Now in finceritie, they be the finest kind of men, that euer I knew: Poets? Could not one get 75 the Emperour to make my husband a Poet, thinke you? CRIS. No, ladie, 'tis loue, and beautie make Poets: and fince you like Poets so well, your loue, and beauties fhall make me a Poet. CHLO. What shall they? and fuch a one as these? CRIS. I, and a better then thefe: I would be forry elfe. CHLO. And fhall your lookes change? and your haire change? and all, like these? 80 CRIS. Why, a man may be a Poet, and yet not 85 change his haire, lady. 58 oppreffion. Exit. Q, G, N 64 Re-enter CHLOE. G, N |